According to Middlebury College student Mohammed Babeker, "In Sudan, we idealize the democracy of the U.S., the freedom of speech in America." But for several days recently, the Sudanese national said, he found himself afraid to share his thoughts publicly. The reason: On January 27, President Donald Trump signed an executive order that closed the U.S. to refugees and nationals of seven predominantly Muslim countries, including Babeker's. With one stroke of the pen, tens of thousands of lives were disrupted. They included those of refugees seeking a new beginning in the U.S. and academics returning from visiting their families abroad. The State Department estimated that as many as 60,000 visas were revoked; the Justice Department put the number at 100,000. On February 3, U.S. District Judge James Robart in Seattle, Wash., blocked Trump's temporary order and lifted the ban nationwide. Refugee resettlement agencies rushed to rebook flights for families and individuals cleared to be resettled in the U.S., including some bound for the Green Mountain State. Although the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit upheld Robart's ruling on February 9, uncertainty and anxiety persist. Former refugees and current Vermont residents Abshiro Ali and Ni Doh Htoo, whose spouses remain in refugee camps, are desperate to get them to the U.S. For his part, Babeker said he won't leave the country to visit his family, even if the ban is lifted. He doesn't want to take any chances. Amid these stories of separation, one refugee family recently found a happy ending: Seven Days watched as Santa Rai's family welcomed his sister and her children at Burlington International Airport last Saturday. These Vermonters shared their stories with Seven Days. Uncertain Wait Abshiro Ali, 23, calls her 7-month-old daughter, Yasmin, the spitting image of her husband, Ali Ali. He gave Yasmin her name. But the child and her father have never met, and Abshiro fears they never will. Two months after the Somali couple married at Dadaab refugee camp in Kenya, they had to part ways. In October 2015, six weeks pregnant, Abshiro joined her family as they left to resettle in Vermont. It was too good an opportunity to lose, but because her family had applied for resettlement prior to the marriage, Ali couldn't accompany his wife. The pair promised to call each other every day. Newly arrived in Vermont, Abshiro filed a petition for Ali to join…
According to Middlebury College student Mohammed Babeker, "In Sudan, we idealize the democracy of the U.S., the freedom of speech in America." But for several days recently, the Sudanese national said, he found himself afraid to share his thoughts publicly. The reason: On January 27, President Donald Trump signed an executive order that closed the U.S. to refugees and nationals of seven predominantly Muslim countries, including Babeker's. With one stroke of the pen, tens of thousands of lives were disrupted. They included those of refugees seeking a new beginning in the U.S. and academics returning from visiting their families abroad. The State Department estimated that as many as 60,000 visas were revoked; the Justice Department put the number at 100,000. On February 3, U.S. District Judge James Robart in Seattle, Wash., blocked Trump's temporary order and lifted the ban nationwide. Refugee resettlement agencies rushed to rebook flights for families and individuals cleared to be resettled in the U.S., including some bound for the Green Mountain State. Although the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit upheld Robart's ruling on February 9, uncertainty and anxiety persist. Former refugees and current Vermont residents Abshiro Ali and Ni Doh Htoo, whose spouses remain in refugee camps, are desperate to get them to the U.S. For his part, Babeker said he won't leave the country to visit his family, even if the ban is lifted. He doesn't want to take any chances. Amid these stories of separation, one refugee family recently found a happy ending: Seven Days watched as Santa Rai's family welcomed his sister and her children at Burlington International Airport last Saturday. These Vermonters shared their stories with Seven Days. Uncertain Wait Abshiro Ali, 23, calls her 7-month-old daughter, Yasmin, the spitting image of her husband, Ali Ali. He gave Yasmin her name. But the child and her father have never met, and Abshiro fears they never will. Two months after the Somali couple married at Dadaab refugee camp in Kenya, they had to part ways. In October 2015, six weeks pregnant, Abshiro joined her family as they left to resettle in Vermont. It was too good an opportunity to lose, but because her family had applied for resettlement prior to the marriage, Ali couldn't accompany his wife. The pair promised to call each other every day. Newly arrived in Vermont, Abshiro filed a petition for Ali to join…